A Deal Before the Altar

‘Every bride should look stunning on her wedding day,’ he said firmly, admiring the confidence that radiated from her. ‘And you do.’

He fought to stop his mind envisaging removing the gown later as he truly made her his. Because if the attraction that existed between them—the one they had both been trying to deny—finally got the better of them when they were alone, there would be no doubt about consummating their marriage.

‘You look very handsome too,’ she said, a small blush creeping across her cheeks, her words softer.

‘I’m pleased you didn’t choose one of those fussy, frilly gowns I saw being brought in.’ He tried to lighten the mood with small talk, but each step she took towards him showcased her slender legs and it was having a powerful effect on him. ‘Such a daring dress was made for you.’

‘Having been married before, I didn’t think the usual fairytale image was appropriate.’ She followed his lead and kept her voice light.

‘It is far better than what you wore the first time,’ he said slowly, his gaze holding hers. ‘A business suit at a registry office? Hardly the stuff of fairytales.’

‘You know that?’ Her beautiful dark eyes widened slightly and she drew in a sharp breath.

‘I always research my business deals, Georgina, and this one is no exception.’ His words sounded firmer than he’d intended as he remembered exactly why they were doing this. The effort of not reaching for her, taking her in his arms and kissing her as he had last night, was almost too much. ‘Ready?’

She looked at him for a moment, her brown eyes cool and emotionless, then she swallowed hard, giving away the fact that she wasn’t as composed as she wanted him to think.

‘I’m ready.’ Still her voice was hard, full of determination.

He took her hand and led her from the terrace, down the steps towards the beach, where his cousin and a friend waited to witness their marriage. He glanced at her, smiling at her continued air of defiance.

Pride unexpectedly swelled in his chest as he realised just what was about to happen. He was about to take this gorgeous woman as his wife—a woman any man would be proud to be seen with. She was clever, witty, and incredibly sexy. Her hand in his was small and he clutched it tighter, enjoying the warmth of her.

* * *

Georgina’s step almost faltered, and it was nothing to do with the grains of sand sliding through her sandals as she made her way across the beach. It was everything to do with the proud and arrogant man at her side.

His hand was warm as it held hers and she risked a quick look at him. He looked as if he’d stepped from her long-ago abandoned dream of a happy-ever-after. He was exactly the image of the man she’d used to dream of marrying: tall, dark, and devastatingly handsome. But this man was also dangerous. The way he could send her senses into overdrive meant she had to guard herself well or risk being hurt.

The waves rolled onto the sand before rushing back to sea and Georgina wished she could slip away with them. Doubts... Surely they were natural for a bride, but they clouded her mind, making her homesick. She wanted to see Emma, to tell her what was happening. This morning she’d nearly called her, but as she’d looked at her sister’s number she’d known she didn’t have enough strength to conceal the truth.

She wished she had someone here she knew. Someone for her. Someone who could reassure her she was doing the right thing.

When Santos stopped, not far from Raul and two others, she knew it was too late.

‘I’m sorry there wasn’t time to find one of your friends to witness this.’

Santos spoke softly next to her ear, almost making her jump and dragging her from her melancholy. It was as if he knew her thoughts.

She smiled brightly at him—maybe a little too brightly. ‘It might have given the game away if you’d started flying my friends out here.’

‘If you’re sure?’

‘I’m sure,’ she replied quickly, injecting as much bravado into her voice as possible. ‘Let’s just get this over and done with.’

He looked shocked, but time for any further discussion was lost as the minister greeted them.

Everything seemed to spin. The minister’s words, first in English, then Spanish, blended with the rush of the waves. Santos continued to hold her hand tightly and the heat of his body beside her was matched only by the sun.

She couldn’t think—couldn’t even grasp the concept of the words that were being said. When she’d walked into Santos’s office last week she hadn’t envisaged this—a beach ceremony with a man she was finding ever harder to resist. A man who wanted to be married to her about as much as she wanted to be to him.